


Dreams Do Come True.

by Sinbirdy



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Android Hank Anderson, Bottom Hank, Comfort, Consensual Somnophilia, DBH Reverse AU, Dream Sex, Human Connor (Detroit: Become Human), M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Multiple Sex Positions, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Power Bottom Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Riding, Sleep Sex, Somnophilia, Top Connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-13 00:30:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19240192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinbirdy/pseuds/Sinbirdy
Summary: The more he gets used to deviancy, the more human like qualities Hank begins to experience. When what he assumes to be dreams start entering his A.I subconscious during statis, he grows curious over what his body can feel when he's not in control, and that leads to a conversation with his flustered boyfriend about how he wants Connor to have his fun while Hank's out for the count. Connor finds that the closer Hank gets to becoming human, the more sexually frustrated he is too, but Connor's not one to complain with "helping" Hank out…





	Dreams Do Come True.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BIGHANK (piano_fire)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/piano_fire/gifts).



> For the lovely Griffen (@BIGHANK) 💕  
> Sorry it took me so long to get this out - I hope you like it!!!!!!!!

Hank's noticed a lot of interesting new developments since deviating from his programming. Firstly, there's the obvious, which is the experience of emotions, and they're a rollercoaster indeed. Hank's world is suddenly open to joy, grief, rage, arousal, emptiness, amusement, and so much more- it can get very overwhelming sometimes, trying to decipher which is which. Sometimes he sits at his desk with Connor opposite him and is hit by lightning through his wires, leaving him to feel quizzical and a little disorientated.

He finds swearing helps him work through his feelings...as well as being fun.

"Lieutenant fucking Dechart?" He says in a low growl, startling Connor. The young lieutenant stares at Hank curiously, frowning as he blinks rapidly, trying to rap his brain around Hank's sudden outburst.

"What-- what is it?" He asks, tentatively reaching for his coffee cup, disappointed to find it empty. Hank's face softens back to neutral.

"Do you ever find emotions to be a shitting fuck balls of confusion?"

Connor stares at him, mouth agape in shock.

"What does that even mean?" He snorts out as he stands, taking his cup as he walks round to Hank's desk. The android has a clueless expression glued to his face, and his LED flickers between yellow and blue when Connor leans over to kiss the shimmering light on his temple. Connor likes to give Hank random tokens of affection - they rattle the android's brain for a second, make him quiet in the storm that is his A.I. He leans over Hank's shoulders and wraps his arms around him, nuzzling his face against his firm cheek. "You having a malfunction or something?"

"Not at all, lieutenant." Hank carefully turns in his chair and stands, taking Connor's coffee cup out of his hand. The two begin walking toward the kitchen. "I am simply trying to find the best way to communicate my feelings. I find inserting swear words into my sentences to be rather cathartic, shit head." His sunny smile contradicts the gruffness of the insult. Connor doesn't take it to heart though, he finds it amusing. Hank's personality has rapidly developed the last few months, he's taken on new quirks completely outside of Connor's mannerisms, and it's wonderful to see.

He leans on the kitchen counter and watches Hank pour him his black coffee. "I think you need to practice it, but I'm glad to see that you're developing new skills." He takes a generous gulp of his coffee and sighs in contentment. "So...you want to expand the whole emotions thing? Why they're, as you so elegantly put it, _'a shitting fuck balls of confusion'_?"

Hank thinks over his statement while cleaning the kitchen surface, his face void of any indication as to how he might be feeling. Which, in truth, Hank isn't sure of. He finds the more he discovers of humanity and what it takes to survive as a rational human using the full spectrum of emotions, the more tangled he becomes in his pursuit to understand what once was seemingly impossible. He hyper focuses; the tiniest act or situation can have him spiralling through a vortex of research and questions just to reach a simple conclusion.

The newest phenomenon that's peaked Hank's Interest is dreaming, specifically the fact he's experiencing what the internet deams to be "a wet dream". He's been thinking about it all day, from the moment he woke up out of statis, to now in the midst of research for one of their cases. In fact, really, he's been thinking about it since last weekend when he woke up in the middle of the night and his lap was covered in thirium. In the pitch black of Connor's bedroom - the smell of his bath bombs from their carrier bag being enough to convince him he's back in reality - he reaches out for Connor's hand and let's his skin peel back when they intertwine fingers. Connor had stirred but never woke, and Hank was grateful. He just wanted contact, to resolve the starving need for affection when it felt like everything was spiralling. Connor anchored him.

But dreaming...it was sensational, Hank wishes his database could record the subconscious A.I that continues to spin after he's shut down his body. The illusions he conjures in his passive state feel like cotton liquid, and frankly he's grown attached to the lucid wonder. Connor brings out the joy of life, unlocks the humanity that's been hidden somewhere in the maze of his mainframe, and he wants to feel so much more because of Connor-- _with_ Connor.

"I was hoping we could have sexual intercourse tonight, if you're not too tired after work."

Connor almost chokes on his coffee, spluttering up the black water and coughing harshly as he pounds his chest. Hank watches him unphased.

"Ye-yeah, Hank, that's fine, _obviously_. You don't have to check in with me though."

Hank doesn't understand why Connor's laughing awkwardly.

"I prefer to make sure you're interested in the engagement, but I had a particular thought in mind for us to try if you would be interested." He takes a couple of napkins and starts tidying up Connor where he's spilt coffee down himself. "I have been experiencing visual sequences during my evening statis, and they're rather... interesting. I find my senses heighten when in your company, due to my sensors compulsory instincts trying to interface with your contact. Therefore I was hoping you would touch me and even penetrate me while I'm in that state."

Connor's left bewildered, staring at Hank with wide eyes and a hanging jaw with no clue what to say next. He's not unfamiliar with Hank's uncouth sense of honesty, or the casual manner he talks about sensitive subjects, but being at work, listening to the confessions of his curious lust, it makes Connor seize up. This big, beefy iron machine with delicate baby blue eyes and a Casper's smile gives him the worst case of butterflies he's ever felt, and to even imagine him surrendering all vulnerability for the exchange of intimacy, it fills Connor with bubbling warmth.

The DPD isn't somewhere they often exchange tokens of affection, but Connor makes the exception to give Hank reassurance. He wraps his arms around Hank's neck and kisses him deeply, waiting for the seconds to drop and for Hank to relax into the touch. His hands grasp Connor's hips, tugging him in. Connor smiles through the kiss.

He pulls away and snickers, pushing back a loose strand of hair that's hanging on his cheek. "If you're sure that's what you want?"

Hank grins. "I shitting definitely fucking do, lieutenant."

Connor cringes and shakes his head, breathing out a puffed snicker. "Keep trying with the swearing, big guy. You're almost there." He walks away with his coffee and leaves Hank to ponder in the kitchen, constructing the scenarios of their evening, making a list of what he hopes to appear in his "dreams" this night…

-

Connor’s in the kitchen sipping the rest of his evening tea, drumming his fingers on his dog mug while thinking about how their night is going to work. He's never done this, have sex with someone while their "asleep", and he's never thought about it either as something he'd be interested in. Seeing Hank's eyes flicker through static shock is one of Connor's favourite parts of sex, he adores the blissed out, surprised look Hank has everytime, like it's their first all over again, and again, and again. Hank in statis is almost like sleep, almost like death, it's a disturbing but gracious sight, and he loves admiring his chiseled, defined features disguised as perfect. This is, though, Connor's chance to really soak up what Hank has, love the creases of his body and paneling, and he wants it…

It's just intimidating. Hank wants this like nothing he's ever asked for, and Connor wants to deliver substantially. He _has_ to, to satisfy the scratch clawing from his insides.

Currently Connor is sitting on a small purple butt plug. It's nothing impressive, no where near what Hank has installed, but it keeps him loose at least. He can focus purely on getting Hank off rather than stretching himself open.

Why does he feel nervous? Hank wants this...Connor _himself_ wants it.

He takes his cigarettes from his pajama pants and places it between his mouth, fumbling for his lighter in the other pocket. Nothing. He walks through the living room to rummage in his coat pocket - his walk a little lopsided and awkward given the sex toy inside of him. The pink metal lighter is cold in his palm. He flips the lid and lights up, taking a long, nervous drag. The smoke is thick like clouds, it digs its nails in the flesh of his lungs before pulling inward, taking away his breath and leaving him feeling tight. His next drag is more staggered. His breath hitches, he catches the nicotine on the way down and coughs up violently. His eyes water, he smacks his chest. Sumo trudges over concerned.

"Hay boy, I'm okay." He struggles to say, patting him and ruffling his ears. He moves for a second to put his cigarette out in his pink ash tray and kneels down to give him more attention. Sumo slobbers over his owner, panting excitedly to be fused over. Connor will take any excuse to prolong what he's about to do, and Sumo is as any good an excuse.

Not that Connor doesn't want to be with Hank. It's just nerves getting the better of him. Hank's so perfect and innocent, and Connor is…

 _Not_. Far from it.

Yet somehow it's always a surprise that Hank is so clean cut and perfect, just as he was designed to be; with his shimmering silvery hair pulled into a short ponytail, his neat beard giving him sophistication and age surpassing Connor, and a body that's broad all over, built to efficiency for strength and stealth while appearing aesthetically fitting to a well built human. Realising through the foggy fantasy that Hank's not human feels like a case of whiplash for Connor, as if he's relearning everytime.

He settles Sumo back to bed and quietly returns to Hank. He's laid out on the bed, arms by his side's, legs long and parted. He doesn't take to clothes in bed, only occasionally fashions Connor's oversized shirts, which is tonight's choice. Everything's on show though for Connor to admire as he climbs between Hank's legs.

His eyes travel up and down Hank's body in the quiet of their night. A strong fiery heat blossoms from the bones of his ribcage, growing unruly and tangling round every inch of his skelton. Looking at him, between the legs of his iron giant, the knowledge that Connor could be crushed to a pulp any second comes like a cool breeze over his flushed skin, because Hank won't, and he's surrendering all his worthy superiority for his need of pleasure. He's at Connor's complete mercy.

Connor takes a deep breath and lays his hands on Hank's thighs, watching as his skin starts to ripple like water at the point of contact. The heavier the touch, the whiter he becomes. Connor slides one of his hands up to Hank's thick, soft cock and holds it in his grip, gently pumping to make his thirium flow south and alight his senses, while his other hand head downward. It's not immediate, but with a few more tugs to make his cock stand fully, Connor feels the light drizzle of Hank's self lubrication over the tips of his fingers. It's thick, though feels weightless and full of air, and it sticks to Connor's fingers like jam might. Connor rolls the substance between his thumb and finger for a second before taking initiative and slowly pushing inward.

Hank's LED spins red for a split second. His body doesn't move, but Connor sees the illuminous glow in the corner of his eye burn bright. His eyes are stuck staring at the thick definition of his cock while he starts pushing his finger in more to make room to pleasure him. Hank's ass isn't like a human, of course, so the defying stretch that he knows from himself isn't there. Instead it's an easy give, soft like rubber. Wet too. Soaked where Hank's lubrication settings have been activated and cover Connor's fingers. Every thrust in has Hank's cock throbbing visibly.

Better yet, Connor notices an array of electrical lights run up his legs like Christmas lights. Thin lines, which if he is to link with something of his human body, he guesses is similar to veins. A tiny multitude of lights build up in throbs before settling again, moving at a consistent pace over and over again. Hank's breathing moves in time with the pulsating light show. Connor's amazed.

He takes his hand away from Hank's cock to draw his fingers over the patterns of his legs. Without holographic skin Hank's body still feels smooth and delicately plush, just as Connor's very real skin does. He continues to push inward while the other hand plays with the mechanics of Hank's sensitive body. Skin rippling like stones in a lake, the soft tan becoming feathered puddles beneath Connor's touch.

Hank's body tenses suddenly when Connor hits his mechanical prostate. Cyberlife had done their part in almost perfecting realistic sexual organs, with the odd advancement here and there like Hank's self lubrication, and in try fashion that includes a fully functional, extremely sensitive prostate that  alights every part of Hank's mainframe. Connor gasps when he feels Hank's cheeks tighten around his fingers. He looks up to see Hank's face burning bright blue, like an ocean, and his bottom lip caught between his teeth. His chest still moves, as it does for Connor's comfort (" _you just look dead without the fake breathing, can't you turn it on even for statis mode?_ "), But is more laboured. Connor looks down to Hank's cock and sees it's leaking thirium, pulsating viciously for attention.

He's ready.

Connor takes a deep breath and positions himself to straddle Hank backward. His own erection strains in his boxers. He groans inwardly when he ruts up lightly against Hank's full mast, desperate to come undone himself. He steadies himself and tugs his boxers down just to reveal his ass. He hovers over Hank's cock and gently pulls the concealed butt plug he's had in since getting home. When it's out he wastes no time and immediately sits down on Hank's erection, stuttering through a heavy breath as the girth opens him further. He chucks the toy to the end of the bed and inhales deep, letting himself sit down more on his boyfriends cock.

"Fuuu…" He cuts himself off with a deep inhale. It lingers in his throat, strangles him momentarily until he's hanging off a blissful sublime making him see stars. He smiles, cracking his neck.

Hank's cock fills him up. He sheaths the entire length of the android and snickers at the soft groan involuntarily coming from the man out cold.

"Kind of with me there then, aye big guy." Connor looks over his shoulder. Hank's face registers nothing. He's blank and emotionless, par the soft blue painting his cheeks. Connor sighs. "I hope you're getting something good out of this."

Connor leans over and pushes his fingers back inside Hank, and is surprised when the android bucks up into him. He moans loud, fingers stalling their hook at his prostate.

"Ha-Hank, go easy there…" Connor whispers. He takes a deep breath and pushes his forefingers in again, and keeps a sturdy pace between thrusting his fingers in Hank and bouncing on his cock.

Inside Hanks A.I however is a world of bright lights bending together, dancing in perfect harmony. The sensors in his cock all tense every time their sheathed in the heat of Connor's hole, sending electrostatic down his limbs and making his motors whirl at light speed. Behind his eyelids there's an in between sublime that transports him through the motions - a selection of gray static and bold bursting lights wrapping his mind and pulling him apart. Through the fog he can see Connor's back, how he throws his head back, how his ass spreads every time he sits down fully, and how slick Hank's cock is with his own cum. He wants to reach out and touch him, wants to kiss the scars on his knuckles or draw lines down the notches of his spine - he wants to feel everything that makes Connor human and remember his feelings with just sight and sense and not with his A.I and database.

As much as Hank loves the feeling of Connor bouncing on his cock, the sensation of his fleshy ass stretching, pulling and rubbing against the silicon on his length, he feels a stronger connection to what Connor does with his fingers. Between his hips to his rear, the skeleton in his body alights like lightning, and with every press to his synthetic prostate, his thirium pump seizes and constricts. If he had to breathe to survive, he'd be struggling to find his breath right now. He loves it beyond his own comprehension, the feeling of Connor's long, chubby fingers pushing deep inside him, being tender and caring despite how hard he slams down on Hank's cock. It's sensational...

He struggles to deal with the influx of information coming in. His mind's eye sweeps through all his thoughts a million miles a minute, but what's always consistent is Connor. His eyes, his smile, his perky bum and his thick thighs, his small cock and his soft moans--

Connor crooks his fingers as he's pressed against the plush of Hank's prostate, and red flashes start going off inside Hank's head.

Static fills him.

Everything is suddenly glitching and heating up like the sun is stored inside his chest - he can't control himself. Before he wakes up he cums deep inside Connor's ass. Ropes of cum squeeze between Connor's cheeks and drip down back onto Hank's lap, that when he wakes up his hands go instantly to Connor's hips to keep him still.

Connor jumps. "Oh-- jeeze, Hanky, are you okay?" Connor goes still and slowly pulls his finger out of Hank, stifling a snicker when the android moans beneath him. He looks over his shoulder. "That good, huh?"

"Connor, I need more.” Hank says urgently, worrying and confusing Connor. His hands are shaking, and his LED is blasting a bloody red glare on his temple. Connor moans accidently as Hank’s movement jerks him, hitting his prostate again.

He quickly pulls off Hank and throws himself between Hank’s legs, sitting up to hold Hank’s face. His legs feel like jelly and the sensation of thirum spilling out of him is rather off putting, but Hank’s panicked face is more important. The adrenaline keeps him upright.

“Hay, hay, Hanky-- what’s wrong? You okay? Did I knock a wire or bolt or something-”

“There’s so many colours, Connor. S-so many feelings, my body feels so hot.” He flexes his fingers and places them on Connor’s hips. He moans when he sees Connor’s bulging rock hard cock between his legs, still suffering in the confines of his underwear. “You felt so good, I want you to have sex with me again. I need fucking.”

Connor stutters. “Oh...okay, if that’s-”

“ _Please_! Now!”

“Okay, okay!” Connor laughs as he pulls at Hank’s legs and shuffles out of his boxers fully. He gets him comfortable on his back and positions his cock to align at the crack of Hank’s ass. He strokes Hank’s knee, catching his flustered expression. “What did you dream about then?”

“Everything…” Hank sighs, swallowing hard. “I can still feel you. It’s like someone is strangling me it’s so intense. I dreamt of fire and water, and you. Please, I need more.” He reaches down to play with his already-hard-again cock, easing the faux skin up and down slowly. His eyes meet in the middle; Connor’s heart clenches in love.

Connor leans forward and captures Hank's lips in a kiss, thrusting softly into the android, holding his legs tight around his hips. He feels warm, in a homely, comforting way, like a log fire on a winter night.

He moves, slower than Hank wants, knowing the pace will drive him crazy and make his circuits practically burst into flames - his hardwire would be chasing for the information, trying to locate the source to produce the end result, but pleasure isn't mathematical, and that's what makes it all so fun for them both. Sex isnt mechanical, they defy what is Hank's programming, and the gratification of fucking with Hank's hardwiring quite literally makes him feel so powerful.

He doesn't _need_ to fuck Hank into oblivion. He's already made sure of that with Hank's deviation.

Hank's face is so soft in this moment. His eyes a beautiful crystal blue, holding Connor's gaze, giving him the vulnerability he's afraid to even admit to. His mouth parts open to reveal the minute detail of a tooth gap, something that makes him just a little more human- something that Hank expressed in the past he dislikes and that Connor spent hours assuring him is a beautiful design.

“Hay, Hanky, do me a favour? Hold your legs to your chest- like, link your arms behind your knees. Please?” Connor pants harshly, almost stopping his thrusts but not quite.

Hank does as he’s told, pulling his legs back and watches Connor in anticipation. Connor smiles, gripping Hank’s beefy thighs and pushes in deep to fully conceal his throbbing cock in Hanks ass. His groan comes up like he’s been holding it in his chest all of his life and he smiles as he rolls his neck on his shoulders. Hank in turn moans, the gruff tones harmonising with Connor’s relief.

“Fuck, Connor…” Hank mumbles, closing his eyes. His LED is flickering yellow and red, yellow and red, yellow and _blue_ then red, then yellow. “You feel so fucking good.”

Connor bites his lip, snickering. “You’re getting better at swearing.”

“I can still feel you...on my cock...fingering my ass...fuck, Connor, I love you, I love you so fucking much.”

It hits like a tonne of bricks, but feels like a bouquet of flowers. Connor stutters momentarily, then rolls his shoulder blades and thrusts faster into Hank. The bed creaks, the mattress squeaks, and all they know is each other. Hank’s programming, everything he’s ever been or was is like a figmented dream of someone else, and he lives for Connor’s racing heart, his aching lungs, and his bright brown eyes looking down at him like he’s a prize. Connor in turn feels like a new man; everything that’s happened to him, all his pain and torture is but the veins under his skin, and he’s the vessal of hope and prosparity. He adores Hank, more than he’s ever for anyone else in his life…

If he died right now, he’d feel complete.

“You’re so perfect, Hank. I never want to stop, never want to take my eyes off you-”

“Love your cock, Connor. Love your fingers, love your ass, love you fucking me-- I-I’m gonna gonna cum again, Con-”

“Do it, my love. I’ve got you.”

And on queue, Hank cums hard, spilling over his chest and down his neck to stain the bed beneath him. Connor rapidly picks up his pace and thrusts with all his might until he yells Hank’s name, ejaculating up inside the android. The cum hits the dead end of Hank’s installd anal cavity and pours out around Connor’s dick, dribbling out of Hank.

All in all, most of the cum ends up back on the bed, ruining the sheets.

Connor struggles to catch his breath. He stays still inside of his lover, head hanging over. His body is a tangle of calm and storms. His muscles beg for relaxation but his brain spins a web to make sense of...everything.

Eventually Hank holds out his hand for Connor and slowly aids the man slip out of him. He eases him toward the bed and pulls him into a hug, holding him close. Connor grimaces momentarily as he realises he’s resting against Hank’s jizz covered chest, but he doesn’t care. He’s done worse... _they’ve_ done worse. Hank runs his fingers through Connor’s hair and kisses his temple.

“You are perfect, Connor. Thank you. I enjoyed that, all of it.”

Connor laughs. “I need a smoke after that, pass me my pack from the bedside drawer.”

Hank frowns, huffing as he moves to get them. When he turns back around those Connor’s upright and inches from his face. He surprises Hank with a soft kiss, holding the back of his neck with one hand while taking the cigarettes with the other.

“You’re my soulmate, Hanky. You’re my dream come true.” He lays back and puts one of the fags in his mouth, lighting it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on twitter @hanksdaddykink.
> 
> First time writing Reverse AU, and I have two headcanons that will be prominent if I write another verse: 1. Hank's bad at swearing, 2. Connor pet name for him is "Hanky".


End file.
